The White Light
by ZtheSOI
Summary: A sentient white light, a seal, and the Grim Reaper. Are those the elements to finally end the massacre of the Nightmare King? But there's someone else inside, calling for help...
1. In Which the White Light Warned You

**Chapter 1 –** **In Which the White Light Warned You**

Something was wrong with the Hollow. Something was _very_ wrong.

Slithers of darkness twirled amongst themselves in the center, penetrating from below the Earth, from the circle which the bed frame disappeared, from _Him_.

Baby Tooth knew. She was witnessing it right then and there.

 _He_ probably was struggling to resurface; to vent his fury, to taste his fear, or perchance to satisfy what madness that monster still preserved. That man was prideful but played dirty, and most importantly, had little but demanded the world.

Baby Tooth squinted, watching out if there was a hint of a sickly grey hand reaching out amongst the bunch of shadowy streaks; It must be messy down below. But she knew better than to linger here.

She fluttered away, without sparing another glance.

I tell you, she was wrong. It wasn't just messy down there.

It was mayhem.

He sprawled flat on the floor- if you could tell where the floor was- everywhere was tainted by slithering, snaking nightmares and fearlings, of which focused on their circulation within the Hollow, not unlike planets of a galaxy. And he- as the stellar- heaved violently as if he had been infected with a deathly plague.

After a gagged grunt, he attempted to swipe away the aggravating piece of _rubbish_ _damned creatures he had a chance he could still have a chance he could getwhathewanted-_

He gasped as yet another thingamajig slid by and attacked his chest, before slipping back to it circular track as quickly as it came. This happened more frequently as time flowed. A part of him-

 _-wondered_ when this will stop.

- _hoped_ this will stop.

Inwardly, he would have punched himself just for this sign of weakness. But the thought was very faint. So faint that it was mostly clouded by his own hatred and fear- his own instinct.

A white, ghostly light emerged out of somewhere from historso. When he finally was composed enough to look at the absurd, dinky ball of light that managed to light up the whole hollow, it had already risen to the higher ground, intimidating the fearlings and nightmares with its contrasting purity and outlandish glow and keeping them at the lower ground with him.

He could do nothing but watch while the white light slammed itself towards the ceiling, knocking off clouds of dust and dirt during its advances. It shimmered brighter and whiter when a small part of the ceiling collapses, revealing the pillar of moonlight descended from _outside_.

The white light squeezed through the hole towards freedom and vanished from his sight.

After the white light vanished though, darkness reeled back. The nightmares and fearlings snapped out of their trances. Abandoning him, they pushed and clawed and tore for the little hole the white light created and scrambled for release.

He waited until all had gone, with only himself lying in the depth of his Hollow, bathing in a pillar of nightlight. He eyed the once little hole which had been forced so large that even a grown man could go through.

For the first time in a long while, _Pitch Black_ laughed.

* * *

The Santoff Claussen workshop wasn't messy. It was cramming with noise and havoc. But in a jolly good way.

As North said, bustling meant process, right? It was two months away from Christmas, and everything had to be _wonderful_.

"Keep up good work, lads!" North bellowed as he took his track along the hallway and into his studio, but cut short right by the door. "Hmph?"

The globe, as sparkly as it usually was, shone with golden spots and reflected northern light. It looked like there were twinkling stars. Yet today, they were twinkling so vigorously, that North had turned back from the door to take a closer look.

Twinkling. Glittering. Flickering...

 _Blinking_?

"What is it this time?" North huffed. "And so near Christmas too."

North knew, even past the peaceful half-year, their misadventure last Easter was only freezing Pitch Black from his schemes. An upcoming hazard was approaching like a slow giant and none of the Guardians could avoid.

Of course, the Sandman had already retrieved most of his stolen Dream Sand, but those which had got themselves sealed along with Pitch had no way to return to their rightful places. And unfortunately, the Boogeyman had already mastered the Touch of Fear technique. There was no way they could reverse that.

It was then when North ceased smoothing his beard and looked up; a spheroid of glowing white light descended from the skylight.

North watched- his eyes bluer than ever and instantly filled with wonder. The white light floated down towards him. It glowed bright and flashed furiously. But North could not comprehend what it was trying to tell. He had his share of encountering moonbeams and other spirits. But this looked like nothing he had ever seen. Despite this, North seemed determined not to back down from the challenge.

"Hello, little one! What may I do for you?"

The white light dimmed. And North inched closer, holding up his hands in case the white light needed support. As he did so, he could faintly hear sounds of whisper that echoed from it. Though, as much as he tried to listen, the vague sounds failed to deliver any audible words.

"Pardon, little one, but I'm afraid-"

The whispering grew louder, more desperate. And as North decided to tell the white light that it was nowhere any clearer, he felt it in his heart: the sorrow and the fear, the frustration and the urgency in the sounds that at first seemed unintelligible; The white light needed his help.

Snatching an ordinary-looking snow globe from a nearby desk, North lightly hurled it into the air. Instead of making contact with the floor and shattering, the globe bursted into a two-metre tall portal that flashed with the colours of the northern lights. At the very centre, was a place vastly different from the icy landscape of the North Pole.

"Bunny!" called North, poking his head through the Portal and looking around the Warren. "Bunny?"

Bunny hopped into view, a bucket in paw. He looked at North in surprise. "Uh, hey? I thought you were busy riling up red-coloured toys?"

"Oh, _excellent_!" said North. "I have something you interested in!"

Bunny looked doubtful, but followed North through to the Portal anyway.

After showing Bunny the white light, in which the former seemed more intent on finding out what it was than what it was trying to say, North asked if he too heard the whispering.

"Er, not really?"

"Listen more closely! You have big ears! For sure you can hear better than me?"

"S'much as I appreciate the compliment, mate, good hearing doesn't come in pack with sharable hallucinations - HEY! No, stop- OW! WHAT ARE YA DOING?"

"I know rabbit ears are sensitive, but listen this-"

"The point is you don't grab _anyone_ 's ear, you blowhard. How would you feel if I grab those Christmas ears of yours just because they aren't as sensitive as mine-"

The white light zoomed between Bunny and North, flashing in an irregular pace as if speaking in Morse Code. Both of the Guardians ceased bickering, and stared at the white light, which flew away from them and towards the Giant Globe.

North inspected the flickering golden spots on the North American continent once more. "It's warning us..."

"Of what?" said Bunny, rubbing his ear. There were tears of pain in the corner of his eyes.

"Of…" North slowly approached the control panel, lifting the glass that shielded the switch of the northern light signals.

He, in his belly, had a very strong hunch of exactly what- or _who_ \- this was of.

* * *

 **Next Chapter - Fearlings Frantics**

 **Update date: 22th October 2018**


	2. Fearlings Frantics

**Chapter 2 - Fearlings Fra** **ntics**

The sky was in a deep orange, with purplish clouds decorating its surfaces as if they were giant, frozen waves. Jack Frost dashed across the sky; the wind pushed him like a sea turtle across a current.

He had flown across many other places on Earth before. But _this_ was an utterly different experience wherever he went; _children saw him_.

"Jack!"

He looked down to find the pack of children gathering together like a group of penguins. That familiar shade of brown hair on one of the them told the winter spirit that he was back _home_.

"Hey, kiddos!" Jack landed atop the statue of Thaddeus Burgess and looked down. "Having fun? Playing together? I'm having a pretty full plate, in a great way. But swear I'll be in Burgess every so often, all 'cause of you fellow troublemakers."

Jamie grinned; his permanent upper incisor had grown.

The children scrambled to update Jack of their upcoming feat: sledding, snowball-fighting, and expressed generally their excitement for the snow days and Christmas.

"Good to know 'bout that!" Jack blew an enchantment to a snow ball on his open palm. "Bet you already had lots of snowball-filled dreams."

According to his plan, the kids were supposed to hop madly and scream ' _yes_ ', and then he would take the opportunity to throw the snowball and make an excuse to start an early snowball-fight. But the kids didn't say anything, instead they eyed each other back and forth.

"Something wrong? You can tell me." Jack squatted down, the snowball forgotten and fallen from his hand. "It can't... Can it be... _bad dreams_?"

"Not exactly," said Jamie, slowly. "Something odd, though."

"How odd?" smiled Jack, yet his eyes were alert and thoughtful.

"Sophie recently got a little bunny of her own."

"That's great! Does she like it?"

"Yes, very much. We sort of adopted it. It has one eye missing, but Sophie didn't care much about that. She would play and hop with it for hours and watch when it was eating greens. That was, until," Jamie casted worried glances at his friends, who returned him with sympathy on their faces. "Until a few nights ago, the bunny disappeared."

Jack's smile finally faltered. "Disappeared?"

"Yeah. Just like that."

"Have you tried to find it?"

"We almost flipped the house upside down. But it was… gone."

Jack looked at each of the children; apparently they all have heard the story, judging by their forlorn faces. Poor Sophie, she must be devastated. He felt uncomfortable just by imagining the optimistic, excitable, innocent girl mourning for a lost friend.

The silence had yet to be broken. That was, when the sky caught Jack's eyes with streams of peacock green and soft pink flowing like a river across the clouds.

"North?"

" _Jack!_ "

Jamie pointed towards the faraway bridge leading to the forest. Swarms of blackness poured into the urban area, swallowing the light as they advanced.

Jack left Thaddeus Burgess alone and stood between the swarm and the children. Sparing a last glance at the northern lights, he decided that North would have to wait.

"Right. Listen, kids," He remembered the last time when Jamie and his buddies had the power of returning the nightmare sand back into the uncorrupted Dream Sand. They might be of help this time, too, thought Jack. Though when he looked closer, he changed his mind. Something was definitely offbeat.

There were ghost-like creatures with faces- if you could call them faces- distorted and twisted in a way that looked like spooked expressions, plus spider-like hands that waved and crawled. They were shadows- not sand- that seemed questionable whether they could be at least bothered by human touch.

"Get behind me."

The swarm charged right on, entering the main street. Jack Frost swiped his staff compellingly. A blast of tall ice shielded them from the horde of nightmares and... _what were those things?_

"Jack! Look out!" screamed Claude and Caleb.

One of the _things_ grabbed Jack by the hood with its spider-like fingers. Jack kicked and slapped, fighting for release as the _thing_ had him higher and higher from the ground.

Jamie caught Jack's ankle and pulled, while Jack managed to smack the _thing_ with the crook of his staff, freeing himself.

"Don't let any of those things touch you!" called Jack.

The kids flinched away from the creatures. They didn't even dare to touch the sand-made nightmares anymore, instead they just huddled against each other.

Another _thing_ advanced out of nowhere and grabbed Jamie by the head, making him scream and thrash.

Jack turned his back to run towards Jamie, yet before he could even take a second step, a group of nightmares and those _things_ snatched Jack's staff away and placed firm grips on his limbs and pulled him further and further away from the kids.

He saw Claude and Caleb, along with Monty, Pippa and Cupcake prying the _thing_ away from Jamie. When they at last managed, Jack shouted.

"Run! Go back home!"

"What about you, Jack? We won't-"

"I'll be fine!"

He couldn't say anymore than that, as the swarm surrounded him and dragged him into the forest.

* * *

Jack could see nothing but blackness surrounding him. He didn't know if his eyes were opened or not; it made little difference.

When the swarm cleared at last, Jack had to take seconds for his eyes to adjust; he was taken to an unfamiliar part of the forest. Unlike the clearing, here was crowded with trees and branches.

No doubt, _He_ was somewhere watching.

" _So predictable,_ " Pitch Black cackled. " _so naive_.

" _And you wonder why you fall for these tricks once and again? It's in your nature. I suppose I shouldn't have forced you in the first place, because it's useless. I am sensible and you are thick-headed. You make the same mistakes but I will not. So no negotiation this time, Jack. Just, business._ "

Jack's wrists and ankles were firmly held by the _things_ , as they shackled him in mid-air. He tried to swing his legs and land a punch, but all was futile.

He glared at the pair of gold eyes in the shadows. No doubt they belonged to Pitch Black, but something was different. The pupils, and even the whites of the eyes no longer exists. "How did you get out? You were-"

" _Sealed in my Hollow. You don't have to remind me the second time,_ " Pitch Black gnarled, the flashlight-like eyes narrowed dangerously. " _I am never fully defeated, not by you- or any Guardians, for that matter. There is always a chance for me to rise once more, and I cherish opportunities, especially this one before me._ "

The _things_ held their captive nearer to Pitch Black, and Jack can see the jagged teeth of his grin.

Before Jack could comprehend, there is a sharp pain in his chest. Unlike that time when his staff was snapped in two, it felt like a part of him was being forcibly pulled out.

"NO!" Jack struggled, trying to cut off whatever part of him was being pulled away.

Pitch Black only laughed in response.

Jack caught a glimpse of his own hands. They were slowly turning black. First the fingertips ( _no no no..._ ), then the palms ( _stop, no, stop it!_ ), then the wrists-

Suddenly, a bright light turned up between Jack and Pitch Black, disrupting the scene. None of the creatures in the woods had expected its appearance, apparently, as they all froze in place to register this strange, astral light. Pitch Black was the first to broke the silence.

" _Out of my way!_ " Pitch Black barked, swatting the bright light as if it was some disgusting fly.

Jack stared at the ball of white light with wide eyes. Although he had no idea where it came from, what it was and what it was trying to do, it emitted a strange sense of safety, as if it had announced it was going to save him- without speaking a word. At the corner of his eyes, Jack saw his hands; they were miraculously returning to health.

Then, as unexpectedly as the arrival of the white light, out came a blaring _BOOM_ , of which forced the _things_ holding Jack to be knocked backwards and release their grip.

Before Pitch Black could compose himself, a boomerang swept across Jack's vision and hit Pitch Black right in the temple.

"Frostbite! There ya are!"

* * *

 **Next Chapter - Riddles and the Stamp**

 **Update date: 25th October 2018**


	3. Riddles and the Stamp

**Chapter 3 - Riddles and** **the** **Stamp**

Apprenticing under Ombric had fueled North with an eternal hunger for knowledge, and since then he had studied each and every book he could land his hands on. The _wonder_ of revealing a piece of the unknown world, or anticipating the meandering- yet ascending- path towards mastery, was precisely the reason he- in order to uncover the mysterious language of the white light- quite unceremoniously woke Sandy up once again by a pat on the arm.

"You sure you don't know what it's sayin'?"

As a spirit, there were numerous wonders in the world- floating islands, talking animals, glowing objects and so many mythical brilliance- that after centuries of bumping into them, the mind gradually built up resistance. Of course, one never had the confidence to say they had a full understanding of spiritual worlds; the marvel phenomena kept occuring that you'd never know how many were yet to come-

-But right now, rather than "intense amazement", Sandy'd settled at "quiet acceptance".

He shook his head slowly, waving at the ball of white light floating in the middle of the Globe Room with a friendly smile.

"Never seen a ball of light havin' thoughts of its own- beside the Moonbeams," Bunnymund leaned on the pillar. "But at least it's heaps of help, seein' it'd just saved Frost's hide from that ratbag."

"Thanks a bunch, buddy," Jack said to the light, cheerily. "And Bunny, too. But I don't understand. What was Pitch trying to do? I thought he was there to finish me off or something, but instead he did that creepy stuff and had me graying."

"Lucky you- when everyone's 'ere save for ya, knew somethin's wrong and set off just in time," Bunny juggled his boomerang. "First guess: _Burgess_. And bloody right, that was."

A Yeti walked up to North with a tray, and North took a piece of cookie from it.

"Important matter we have to focus on _is_ , that boogeyman has returned," North took a bite, the crumbles fell into his boundless beard. "Last time we checked, he was sealed by his own minions."

"Ah, that's what I asked!" Jack cut in. "But then he said- whatdidhesay- is some _I-am-never-defeated_ kind of junk. Same as not answering."

"That bastard righ' there casted him off though," Bunny nodded at the white light. "Might as well knows a bit more than us."

"It can be added into our question list," North patted his belly. "If none of us has answers, then- wait- _Tooth_!"

"-Ankara, Sector 5: 15 incisors, 23 molars. Berlin, Sector 6: 9 molars- three first teeth, alert! Two upper lateral incisors, one lower -"

"Toothy!"

"- _canine_. Oops, sorry, North, " Toothiana shushed the mini fairies beside her. "It's a bummer we can't communicate with the light! I think, who'd know more languages than you, North? And then I think, oh there is one! Remember one time when a band of moonbeams arrived here when the Pole daytime finally ends? That's like, months ago. And once Father Time was here to witness this with us, he surprised us by speaking with the moonbeams. Though come to think of it myself, it shouldn't come off as a surprise; there's an abundance of opportunities for him to learn as many languages as he pleases-"

"Thanks, Tooth. If that's so, we've no choice but to seek Father Time for aid."

"Father Time?" said Jack. "Never seen him before. Sounds like a big deal of a guy."

"Big deal is big deal," North winked. "And _NOW_ , is time for happy sleigh-ride."

Bunnymund sighed desperately.

"Prepare the sleigh! Onward, soldiers!" North bellowed happily, practically hopping his way through. "We have appointment with the Keeper of Time. You're coming too, little friend!"

The white light beamed.

* * *

The sleigh, captained by North, took the Guardians to a woodland with trees as tall as giants, leaves as red as fire. They were not as thick and intertwining as the branches at Punjam Hy Loo, because they develop mostly vertically, reaching for the sun like skyscrapers. The evergreen- or _everred -_ although slim, had clustered as tightly as ever thought possible, shrouding the winding forest ground that Jack privately thanked North for travelling through the sky; it might take years for them to make a way down below.

"Oh, yeah," said Jack, pulling himself back from marvelling the bird-eye-view of the trees. "Back then in Burgess, Pitch was with the nightmares and... some sort of monsters with long, stick-like fingers. What _are_ those things?"

"Fearlings," Bunny shivered. "Can this bloody death trap be any _slower_?"

Sandy formed a sand sick bag above his head, followed by a sand question mark. He was holding the white light safely in his tiny hands. Initially, Bunnymund was the one to hold it, but turned out to be a bad idea when he tried to grab the edge and hold the light at the same time.

" _Fillings_?" Jack raised an eyebrow at Bunny. "Like, stuffed toys?"

"I think he means _FEAR-ling_ s, " Tooth corrected, and proceeded to speak as if reading aloud from Wikipedia. "Another kind of minions under Pitch Black's disposal. They are the most notorious monsters that existed since the Golden Age of the Galaxies, spreading fear to the hearts of every creature. At the height of their power, it is even possible for them to turn children into one of them-"

"-Exactly what he was doing when you turns black."

Jack whipped around to face his companions with wide eyes and gaping mouth. He looked at his hand holding his staff, struggling to recall the sensation when the graying commences. If he was an onlooker of the process, he would guess the ritual was painful and involved gross, wiggling substances crawling through the veins, blackening blood cells and killing the body tissues-

-But it sounded too scientific, anyway. He hadn't felt pain. Rather, it was a spreading numbness as if the blackened body parts did not belong to him anymore. As if it had switched its ownership to _him_.

"With these _Fearlings_ ," said Jack. "How can there be a Golden Age?"

Tooth and Sandy exchanged uneasy glances.

"Ah, almost there," said North, cheerily. "Hold on tight! Destination right ahead!"

Jack stood on his seat. Sure enough, amongst the giant trees, there was a clock tower _even taller_ than the rest of the woodland. Aside from its size, however, it looked peacefully unassertive. The white-washed brick surface was graying with age, and the massive clock displayed at the very top of the tower lacked any glass casing to protect the hands, which surprisingly had no problem carrying on their chores for centuries onwards. Jack stared as the second hand twirled past eleven and finally reached-

 _DONG!_

Tooth's feathers puffed out as a sudden loud noise echoed through the area. Birds from the trees below were just as startled, if not more, and flew off from their nests.

 _DONG!_

North flicked the reigns and the sleigh descended towards the rapidly enlarging Clock Tower.

 _DONG!_

Bunny drew a deep breath when the sleigh touched the familiar ground.

"I'll never get used to it," he mumbled weakly, hopping off with his companions.

North, taking the lead, walked up to the grand gate of the Clock Tower, and knocked twice. The gate creaked open promptly before a gentle, yet tired voice sounded, " _Enter._ "

* * *

It was a strange one-room. A gigantic pillar stood in the middle, ascending skyward. It was made of cogs and gears, from tiny to bulky, from broad to tiny, all turning at different pace and carrying out their own chores. By the walls, was a continuous set of stair that led to the top- it was so high they were yet to see where the end touched. And leaning on every inch of the walls that weren't occupied by the stairsteps (sometimes even on the steps) were bookshelves, though on closer inspection, Jack had noticed that the spines were- instead of story titles- engraved with numbers. They were _diaries_.

"To what do I owe the honour, Guardians of Childhood?"

Father Time was a thin, old man in an oversized cloak, with beard as white as North's, yet not as wild. Instead, it was neatly combed into strands. He stood before the gear pillar, looking gently ahead.

"Ah, Father Time! It is _OUR_ honour to meet you again," chortled North.

The other Guardians greeted Father Time like an old friend, except Jack Frost who waved awkwardly. But either Father Time didn't notice, or he pretended he didn't.

"As much as I appreciate the company," Father Time smiled briefly in regard. "I'm afraid the Realm of Time has recently become quite eventful and needs a close watch. So your pleasant surprise-visit can only last for so long."

"Sorry for intrusion, ah..." North brushed his hand. "We only have one small question-"

"Ah, _question_ , small but powerful, simple but useful," Father Time remarked, turning his gaze at a particular part of the gear pillar.

"...Yes. But I mean we have a question about this light-"

"Ah, the symbol of goodness since the birth of the civilisation,"

"...Yes, yes. But what I'm saying is-"

"Today is an unusual day,"

Tooth and Sandy eyed each other and shrugged.

Jack looked up at wherever Father Time was looking at. The gear pillar was majestic with the metal gears reflecting the sunlight, giving the pillar a heavenly aura. Yet, _that one spot_ he was looking at... something was oddly empty. Something was... _missing_?

"You must be the new Guardian," Father Time turned his gaze at Jack.

"Oh! Right," Jack snapped back to reality, and saluted Father Time. "Nice to see you, sir. Name's Jack. Jack Frost."

"Guardian of Fun. Bless you, it must've been a busy job,"

"Thanks, ah..."

Jack and Bunny eyed each other and shrugged.

It was then the white light floated from Sandy's palms to right in front of Father Time and shimmered when he took notice of it.

"Why, greetings, friend,"

"You are friends?" said North, his cap almost fell as he jumped.

"Friends have different definitions for different people. Anyone can be a friend, even our enemies," Father Time replied lightly.

"Ah, right. Gotcha," but North didn't look like he got it. "So, you know what it's trying to say?"

"Our souls come and go. But funnily enough, sometimes beings of smaller sizes tend to stay a bit longer,"

"Like _cockroaches_ ," whispered Bunny to Jack.

"Souls? Are you trying to say that it is a ghost?"

"I've seen ghosts!" Tooth chirped. "But they're not like this..."

"You know what ghost's saying, Father Time?"

"The Grim Reaper never tells ghosts anything, which is a wise choice. Our journey must be revealed only by ourselves."

"So, you're saying that the Grim Reaper has the answer?"

" _Today is an unusual day,_ "

North did not know if he should laugh or cry. Father Time was being quite persistent, it seemed; he was quite determined to carry on with his riddles. At this point, he considered that maybe it was their cue to leave, it was -after all - an eventful period for Father Time.

As he was about to signal his friends to go back to the sleigh, Father Time turned to gaze at North, suddenly serious.

"You might want this," Father Time fished out a small, wooden object from his left sleeve. "For dealing with souls that are difficult to discipline."

Jack popped his head up from North's shoulder, just enough to witness the small object falling into North's open palm. For a moment, he foolishly considered that it might be another set of nestling dolls, but in closer inspection, the object was merely in a deep shade of brown- like unpolished and unpainted wood- crafted into a shape similar to a stamp.

" _The Seal of Imprisonment_..." said Toothiana breathlessly.

"But what for, Father Time?" said North. "It's not like we would seal off little fella-"

" _Today is an unusual day,_ "

Then, North decided, that it was really their cue to leave.

* * *

 **Next Chapter: The Train and the Golden Age**

 **Update Date: 29th October 2018**


	4. The Train and the Golden Age

**Chapter 4 - The Train and the Golden Age**

"What happened to the Golden Age?"

On the return journey, Jack finally had the chance to press on the questions that kept bubbling in his mind. The concept of magic at its height of development, the apex of adventures between stars, was alien to him- fantastical and about unimaginable. What fun it would be to be unlimited by the sky, to submerge himself the era of boundless opportunities. It also filled him with a sense of longing, and a tiniest, almost unperceivable dose of _shame_.

He told himself that he seldom resent Sandy's dreams. After all, it had brought bundles of sensations: the warmth at his chest, the weightlessness somewhere between his ribcage and stomach that made him believe anything is _possible_ , the _hope_ , the _wonder_ , yet-

-When he finally opened his eyes, snapped back to reality, and realised that things he just experienced minutes ago- something along the situations in which he was building a fancy _castel_ and recruiting a flying whale named _Captain Brownie_ as its guardian- were, to put it bluntly, _non-existent_. It felt like a schoolboy just receiving the news that the classroom was going to hold a party tomorrow and ten minutes later they curtly announced _oh sorry it's a mistake. No party tomorrow but the schedule is still going normal so no harm done, right? What'd you say about your plans?_

"Ransacked," said Bunny. He tried to continue, but failed when the reindeers galloped higher and faster into the reddish sky.

"Come again?" Jack prompted, grinning.

"There were Tsar and Tsarina Lunar- The Man in the Moon's father and mother," Tooth saw the confusion in Jack's face, and explained. "-to initiate the defense. Among the troops is the Hero of the Golden Age, General Pitchiner, leading the Golden Armies to protect the galaxies and capture the fearlings."

"And in the end," Jack recalled Bunny's word. "The Golden Age was ransacked?"

"Not yet," Tooth shook her head. "General Pitchiner was responsible for guarding the prison of the Fearlings. But one day, the monsters tricked him into believing that his daughter was being held inside with them, and he opened the door."

"And he was killed?" Jack prompted again.

" _Worse_ ," poor Bunny managed to utter another word, before slumping lower into the seat.

Sandy patted Bunny on the shoulder, and then got started as he noticed the white light in his palms seemed a lot duller than usual.

The sleigh dashed forward with North yelling " _HIYAAA!_ " and it swept swiftly against the back of the passengers like a dust pan. Sandy had the sense to hover a little bit away from the seat, but the rest of them either got slammed at the back of the skull or the shoulders by the cheerfully-red wooden board.

"What is wrong with ya, blowhard?" Bunny waved his fist, exasperated. "Ain't it gonna be fit to just use that bloody snow globe of yours!"

"HA!" North barked as he flicked the reign. "But we are not going back just yet!"

"Y'all hear that guy?" Bunny's ears drooped.

"We have to get things done before dark- Pitch's high time! Not a moment to lose! Father Time gives us name, and we find Grim Reaper."

"But _North_ ," Tooth smoothed out her feathers as she got up from the seat. "You know Father Time likes to talk riddles. What if we've misinterpreted him? What if he doesn't mean us to literally find the Grim Reaper?"

" _We believe_ ," North turned around to show them a warm smile. "In him, and in ourselves."

They landed finally. Jack hopped off from the back of the sleigh and admired the new environment, half-expecting for something epic like Father Time's Clock Tower.

But there was nothing, practically. They were on a forlorn-looking flatland with rocky ground, which- Jack noticed- had deep and thick cracks caused by draught. No life- not even a blade of grass- was in sight. The only things that caught the eye were the low, sharply ridged mountains resting far away, hazy and muffled by fog. Then-

-Jack saw it. A _blue flame_ , floating eerily in mid-air as if an invisible candle had placed under it. Jack circled the flame, yet it remained calmly unbothered and unmoved, as if it was perfectly normal. _Almost_.

Jack blew it. It dissipated as if it had never been there before.

"What was _that_ for, Jack?" Bunny hopped towards him. "That's gonna help us!"

"What?" Jack threw his arms dismissively. "I saw these before, loads of times. I blew them _all_ off! It's _fun_!"

Near the parked sleigh, Sandy held out his hands and let the white light float freely. Taking notice of the two arguing, he pointed at somewhere behind them. Bunny and Jack dropped their argument mid-sentence, and followed his finger; not far ahead, another blue flame floated peacefully in mid-air.

" _Don't you blow it!_ " Bunny warned quickly.

"And all the time I've been doin' it," Jack smirked, beating Bunny- who looked half-dubious- to the flame and poked it with the tip of his staff. "Nothing bad happened."

"Ya _think_."

"Whoa, look- another one!"

Before Jack could summon the Wind, a loud chorus of whistles sounded. It echoed through the land with its powerful chord. The whistles lasted for only seconds, but felt a minute to those who were stunned by it.

Sandy watched as the ball of white light floated higher and glowed brighter; it seemed to be paying extra attention just like the others.

A train- a steam train to be precise- travelled across the land. Under the train, there were no tracks; it apparently didn't need any, because once it was close enough, the train had steadily come to a halt right beside the Guardians.

"You're in some thunders rollin', frostbite," Bunny leaned to Jack, smirking. "That's the _Afterworld Express_."

"You're saying the Grim Reaper's on it?" Jack started hopping, excited. "Love to meet someone new."

Bunny palmed his own face.

Once the locomotive had stopped utterly, more white steam flooded from the chimney and between the wheels, forming a big thick cloud. The door to the driver's cabin was slid open by a skeletal hand from inside. Out came a hooded figure standing on the edge of the cart, all in ebony black.

"Oh," the figure murmured, with a raspy yet female voice. "It's _you_."

The hood that hid the upper face of the Grim Reaper, gave out a dangerous yet mysterious aura. But what made her more threatening, was the seven-feet-tall scythe draped by a long, shaded _bandage_.

"Just now, I could sense a Ghost Fire was _once_ _again_ blown out," she deadpanned, her voice lower and raspier. "I'm not asking why. Some people just love banging on doors instead of ringing bells."

Jack could feel her gaze on him for a second, and responded with a sheepish smile.

* * *

The driver's cabin was too small to contain a whole group of spirits, not to mention it was rather risky to have _energetic spirits_ near the numerous lever switches and controllers.

And so the Guardians, along with the Grim Reaper, gathered inside the next passenger cart. To the former's delight, souls of children squealed at the sight of their beloved spirits and received a few hugs.

"I heard ginger tea helps," the Grim Reaper offered, glancing at Bunnymund, who- after rides and rides- finally slumped by the booth and glued his face onto the table.

"Nah, but thanks, mate," Bunny's voice came out muffled. "Don't think it's a nice idea to drink anythin' at all."

The white light shimmered.

"Oh, right. Where was I..." the Grim Reaper turned back to the Guardians. "I can confirm his words. This light is- in fact- a soul."

The Guardians perked up at the news- finally some solid leads!

"Not a whole one, but a fragment, at least," she carried on. "I'll explain first. A soul lives in a living creature. When the body expires, the soul loses its container, and become a wandering ghost on Earth. It's my job to take them to another... stage.

"You can see on this train: the souls are whole and unscathed, having an avatar of what they once were. However, if a soul is made a _spirit_ , the soul sticks to the body, and both gain powers that grant them immortality and perhaps enhanced abilities."

Jack stared at the Grim Reaper, mouth agape and eyes widened to a full circle. So after saving his sister three centuries ago, his body was never found. Just _poof_ , disappeared into the world of spirits, and into oblivion and invisibility... without any trace that he had been there in the first place- if his sister was not there to tell the tale?

The possibility frightened him, and he gently shook his head.

"So this is what only a piece of soul looks like," Tooth thoughtfully tapped her chin. "No wonder North nor Sandy could understand it. We'd mistaken it for a light beam-"

"Na-ah, we _can_ understand it!" said North. "You don't need my belly to do that! Just use _here_!" He slapped his chest for good measure, not before showing an ear-to-ear grin that made his eyes squint. When everyone in the cabin- including some eavesdropping children by the nearby booths- displayed their confused faces, North elaborated.

"You can do it- _Anyone can_!" his hands were free as the cutlasses were sheathed, and he held out his palms to let the white light flew on top of them. "Just look, and _see_. It's always trying to tell things. I can see shimmer faint when it feels sad, bright when happy, blinking when telling stories!"

Jack glanced at North, who spoke of the soul like a lighthouse, and slowly, a faint smile crept up on his face: maybe North was just too optimistic for most times.

Or, that he was indeed to kindest soul on Earth.

Toothiana was as well smiling, but she decided they simply did not have enough time to interpret shimmers and blinks- _the sun was going down_.

"Anyway," she softly coughed. "I can see some of the child souls sleeping in the cabin- so maybe just a fragment of it still can?"

Sandy's eyes widened as he realised, too.

"Of course," the Grim Reaper said. "But what about it?"

Sandy conjured golden streaks of dream sand flowing from the fluid movement of his little hands. Bunnymund also rose from his seat and closely watched.

"If the little guy here can still sleep, it can dream," said Bunny. "Sandy can talk to it through dreams, righ'?"

Sandy gave a thumbs-up.

The golden sand swirled like liquid, flowing in every direction and soon made contact with the ball of white light on North's hands.

* * *

 **Next Chapter: Kozmotis Pitchiner**

 **Update Date: 1st November**


	5. Meeting Kozmotis Pitchiner

**Chapter 5 - Meeting Kozmotis Pitchiner**

 _Dreams do not exist within the realm of hours or minutes or any measure of the day._

 _I am from a place that was a dream, a place called the Golden Age. And though it may be a place of the past, it is not gone. The dream of it lives still._

* * *

"Greetings," said Sandy. It was not a voice, nor any sound that came from the physics of vibration or any other means. It was just a message, delivered through the golden sand, and reached not the ears, but the mind of the dreamer.

" _I know who you are,_ " replied the soul, softly, yet carrying a hint of urgency. " _And how glad I am to see you, Captain Sandy._

" _My name is Kozmotis Pitchiner._ "

The dream around them flickered like static, it could be because of how Sandy was shocked by the revelation, or that how powerful even a fragment of this soul was.

The environment changed to reveal the depth of the galaxy, with chaos bombarding stars and ships, darkness swallowing light.

"Usually," smiled Sandy. "I am the one to tell stories. But this is a fully-justified exception."

" _Thank you_ ," said Kozmotis Pitchiner. " _I was consumed by the shadows, as you've already known. But it takes time for one to be tainted fully in darkness. Time passed, and my chance of recovery became slimmer still._ "

The scenery rippled and melded into Burgess, specifically, the night when the Nightmare King attacked with waves of nightmare tsunami. But it looked different. White zaps of static flashed across the scene like lightning storms, casting sinister back shadows. Sandy paid them no mind but his dreamer, smiling gently.

"But you survived."

" _But I survived,_ " agreed Kozmotis Pitchiner. " _Months after of the defeat of the Nightmare King, he was at his weakest state. Thus I was able to escape from the coldness of his heart. And venture outside the Hollow._

" _But alas, history repeats itself. The creak I opened in the Hollow allowed the darkness towards freedom, right after me._

" _I immediately sent to seek the Guardians, who might be my last hope. And that was what led us to where we are now._ "

Sandy nodded, letting the golden dream sand glow brightly.

"I understand now," said Sandy. "But what do you propose we do?"

" _I fear that I'm asking so much of you,_ " said Kozmotis Pitchiner, sorrowfully. " _But if you can aid me in retrieving my body, and compel the tainted part of the soul within it, I guarantee that the massacre of the Nightmare King will forever be the past._ "

Sandy opened his eyes.

Through the cabin's window, he could see the sky was still rose-red as before he fell asleep. It was of no surprise: time had little to do with dreams.

At the best of Sandy's ability to tell stories using sand images, he tried to translate the overall meaning first, before going through the details of every exchange.

The Guardians were awestruck by the news.

"Then what are we waiting for? YEE-HAA!" exclaimed North, pumping his fist to the air. "Let's go find Pitch! We end this once and for all!"

The Grim Reaper was watching the white light- or, the ghost of Kozmotis Pitchiner- with an oddly earnest gaze, but she didn't talk about it. Then she turned to North after his enthusiastic shouting.

"I'm sure he'll go find you, too," she nodded towards the window. "Considering that night has almost arrived... You're the ones who put him down in the first place, after all."

She gestured to the sky, which had its warm colours fading, replaced by darker shades of blue and purple.

 _We're the ones._

 _The ones..._

 _Not just u_ s... Jack tightened his grip on the staff, his eyes darting everywhere around the cabin. _Not only us, but also..._

"Jamie!" he cried out, startling the others. "I'm sorry but I hafta' go!"

He rustled to the nearest booth and pushed the window open, letting in the Wind.

"Jack! What're you doing?" Tooth gasped.

"Remember the kids that helped us in the battle at Easter," Jack opened the window wider. So that a teenage boy could go through. "Pitch probably is on the move now. And I can't just wait for him to hurt them! Not ever!"

No one stopped him.

" _You know where I'll be!_ " he said, before squeezing through the gap and let the Wind carry him off.

"I'll go help the frostbite out," offered Bunnymund, and seemed grateful when he hopped off the train and into one of his tunnels.

As for the rest of the remaining Guardians- North, Tooth, and Sandy-, bid farewell to the Grim Reaper and set off back to the Pole. They needed to forge a plan.

* * *

The pedestrians wondered why the temperature had so suddenly dropped by a long shot.

Jack Frost glided across the air, zipping past neighbourhoods and traffics, and eventually landed on the roof of the Bennet household. He stood up straight, glaring at the surrounding area, tentatively screening the scenery for any hint of unwanted darklings.

"Hey there, slowpoke," A voice sounded behind him.

Jack instinctively snapped around, staff at the ready. But Bunnymund stood there, a smug smile on.

"Phew," Jack let his arms slumped. "Seriously? What're you doing here?"

"I got good memories," Bunny stretched his arms and kicked his giant feet. "I haven't forgotten what happened last time we separated; we got taken down one by one… And I'm not gonna let him have you, Jack."

"Alright," Jack slid down to the edge of the roof and glanced through the window below. "Let's see how the kid's been doing..."

Judging by the darkening sky, it was most probably near the children's bedtime. Jamie's bedroom was empty, but the sounds of chatting and laughter behind the door gave out the impression that he was, at least, somewhere in his home, and safe.

 _Whether they ask for this, that, or the other, what they are really asking for is happiness._

It was all very simple- the children, if you'd understand. They craved happiness, through activities adults had seldom thought of participating- jesting, drawing, dancing, or perhaps snowball fighting. Why was it so hard to achieve?

 _People are often... confused._

"Remember you have school tomorrow," a faint voice of Jamie's mother came from the hallway. "Get enough rest."

"Okay, Mum."

Jamie slipped into the covers, his back turned from the window.

Jack doubted the day's event would make Jamie fall asleep so easily. The excitement was a bit too much, comparing to the last battle at Easter- when he easily lifted up his hand and purified the corrupted sand. Jack Frost the Guardian, who was supposed to protect the children, just had to get grabbed on his own and need them to save him in return, and nearly had Jamie abducted as well.

What was the feeling? Was it _guilt_? He had a faint idea that he had experienced the same thing before, just not very often. Then and there he decided that he did not like it one bit.

" _Hey,_ frostbite," called Bunny. "Look up, mate. You're righ'. They _are_ comin'."

* * *

 **Next Chapter - The Struggle for Life**

 **Update date: 5th November 2018**


	6. The Struggle for Life

**Chapter 6 - The Struggle for Life**

The Globe Room was seldom dark, even as the North Pole's sun began to set and hibernate for the coming five months. The windows glowed a warm yellow, giving an impression as if a family was preparing for Christmas celebration. In usual circumstances, this might not be far from the truth. But a delay had to be issued.

Time was ticking, and the assumed time of Pitch's advance was approaching in a pace none of the Guardians seemed to appreciate.

Speaking of Pitch Black, he probably was really happy about getting rid of his so-called "weakness". The final part of humanity being forced out of him would indeed multiply his hatred and bring him a large step further beyond saving. But it mattered not, no more, when the _hope_ had fixated himself in mid-air beside North. The white light glowed.

North brought out a heavy, ancient-looking book, and prepared to skim through the pages.

"I don't think reading would help a lot now, North," Tooth folded her hands together. "We don't have the time!"

"Nah, we already know what to do!" North chortled, as if the battle had already been won.

Sandy raised a golden question mark.

Suddenly all hint of smile vanished from North's face, turning the old man solemn and perhaps a few decades older. His expression was contagious, because Sandy and Tooth looked shocked at his sudden change of mood. Even the white light had dimmed. North took a few steps forward, towering the other two guardians. Then he put his hand in the other sleeve, and then-

"Duh, duh, DAH!" North's booming voice echoed through the conference area. "We can use _this_!"

He had fished out the Seal of Imprisonment from his sleeve. The stamp-like woodcraft looked so tiny when gripped by North's enormous hand.

"I didn't ask how to use it- I was thinking Father Time was making joke with us," explained North. "The book miiight have answers."

Sandy breathed a silent sigh of relief; how dramatic could North be?

Tooth hovered above the Seal, inspecting it at different angles. "And, uh... how do you plan to...?"

"It says to switch open first," North stopped at a particular page. "Turning handle like this!"

He wriggled the stamp, before moving the ring-shaped switch near the top of the handle. The ring glowed green. North let out his signature bellowing laugh.

"Now let see let see _let see_!" North wasted no effort to contain his own excitement, and proceeded to look for the next instruction. "Blah blah blah- to your target, and then!"

He slammed the seal on the table, as if making a stamp. The collision resulted in a loud thud that startled both Sandy and Tooth (whose feathers puffed).

"The deed is done," North was apparently satisfied with his rehearsal.

* * *

Jack and Bunny quickly felt overwhelmed.

It's not like the quantity of their enemies were anything more than last time, but they had no idea how to deal with the shadowy Fearlings. They sliced, punched, kicked at those vile creatures. Yet either those things failed to experience pain, or that they had excellent perseverance, and determined to deliver their vengeance tenfold.

"Wish we could call for help," said Jack, desperately. "S'not like we're gonna match against these stuff."

To think some of them had once been real, living children, had made him endure a kind of coldness his staff could never conjure.

"Don't be duff," grumbled Bunny, who wasn't faring any better. "One second out of guard, they'll plunder the kids for sure."

How long they had been battling- Jack didn't know. He hadn't been keeping track. Yet he remembered when the Fearlings had first engaged them, there had been merely a dozen. Now, however, every inch of the sky had been occupied with blackness. Jack was reminded of the last time he was grabbed hold of by the Fearlings, in which his vision made no difference whether his eyes were open or closed.

A very narrow gap between the Fearlings allowed Jack to witness a couple of them sliding the window open to Jamie's bedroom noiselessly.

He had no time to say anything. Desperate, he dived towards the intruding Fearlings, only to have another horde of them blocking his vision. If they just wanted to combat him, they would have just gave chase all around the air. Yet they seemed determined to cage him and Bunnymund within the area. One of them even endured Jack's frost blast just to remain in place.

They knew what they were doing.

" _Break it up, little ones. You're suffocating the poor fools,_ " a gentle voice said.

The spheroid cage made of Fearlings opened up at one point, revealing Pitch Black the Nightmare King, who smiled as he walked upon the roof of the Bennet Household. Even as his eyes were completely filled with yellow and gold, Jack could sense his gaze never leaving him or Bunnymund.

"Bunny," Jack hissed. "They've got a couple of those things inside the house..."

Bunny snapped to him, though he failed to find any words to say. With the Fearlings scattered just a little bit, he carefully turned towards Jamie's window, in which, to his horror, the Fearlings grabbed hold of the child's arms and head tenderly. Jamie remained asleep.

"Be on guard," he finally uttered. "W'gotta get this mess behind us before goin' anywhere."

"'Course I know that! But how-"

" _Are my eyes deceiving me? Just two... Offense taken. Do the mighty Guardians perceive themselves as above an army of Fearlings? Or are they so daft that they've forgot what happened last time I cornered them one by one?_ "

Pitch Black stood at the entrance of the Fearling cage, his smile indicated his obvious pleasure in wasting Jack and Bunny's time. Jack stole a glance at Jamie's window again, the Fearlings were standing by to commence their ritual of _transformation_.

Jack looked around the cage of Fearlings, anticipating an attack. As his eyes moved from one floating creature to another, he spotted an oddity among them.

A small rabbit, or rather, a Fearling with the appearance of a rabbit, slithered across his vision. It took him a few second to register before cold horror downed upon him; the rabbit was missing one eye. He now knew what happened to Sophie's pet.

Then, without warning, Pitch Black swung his black scythe, which integrated out of thin air.

* * *

 **Next Chapter - Three Portals**

 **Update date: 8th November 2018**


	7. Three Portals

**Chapter 7 - Three Portals**

Jack and Bunny had barely rolled out of the way, gasping at such strength that was much enhanced since the last time they saw him. There was no doubt the utter lack of humanity made him more ruthless than ever. There was no hesitation in his desire for kill; every swipe and slash was no slob, and each was blunt and fast in design. And, as Jack noticed, he seemed not to recognise him and Bunny anymore, at least not at a personal level. He constantly referred to them as just 'Guardians'. No matter he was clashing against Jack or Bunny, there was no change in his eyes, but the same old hatred. Beyond saving, indeed.

"It's no use trying to win through this ping-pong match. Can your tunnels appear on roofs?"

"Not when I'm darting around like this."

"That's a bummer. Listen, if we get through this alive, I'mma race you along one'a those. Never officially got a tour or the sorts."

Bunny looked at him incredulously. "Don't think too hard about death at your age, mate."

Behind Pitch Black, a flash of light bursted into a portal, taking everyone by surprise. The Fearlings, despising the brightness, scattered and was disintegrated enough for Jack and Bunnymund to knock their way out of the cage.

The lack of humanity heightened the sensitivity of Pitch Black to light as well. He seemed having trouble just to see where he slashed at, as he turned about and took a swipe at the opening of the portal, and was frustrated when the scythe met empty air.

" _Come forth and accept your doom, Guardians. I've no leisure to play games._ "

Nobody came out of the portal, and no one responded. After a few confusing seconds, another portal exploded into view. Then a third one. All of them surrounding Pitch Black.

Suddenly, Sandy jumped out from one of the portals, he raised his hand in which clutched a stamp-like device. As he closed in on Pitch Black, whose back was facing him, he was about to strike with the device.

But Pitch Black turned just in time, and with a vicious swipe of the scythe, Sandy was thrown several feet back into the portal. Though not a moment after, Tooth zoomed out of another portal towards Pitch Black, with the same device in hand.

Jack watched in bewilderment. After another round of struggle, he faintly got the idea of what North and the others were trying to do. Yet Pitch Black had already learnt not to remain inside the circle of portals in which he risked exposing himself. As Tooth flew out the second time, he promptly grasped hold of her wrist tightly that she failed to escape.

He dragged her out of the circle as she tried to pull free in desperate attempts. Disintegrating the scythe, he used his free hand to examine the device Tooth held.

" _The Seal of Imprisonment,_ " he spat. " _Another childish trick up_ _on_ _the Guardians' sleeves. Fine. If they're so curious to see what this thing do, let they themselves have a taste of their own medicine._ " He smiled maliciously and he looked up from the Seal to Tooth, who was horrified.

"Tooth! Give me that!" shouted Jack.

Without thinking twice, she snatched the Seal with her free hand and threw it towards Jack's direction. Jack quickly caught it. He spared a look at Bunny, who was already battling the Fearlings inside Jamie's room. The child was hiding under his sheets.

He didn't need any element of surprise. He didn't need any time for fighting the Fearlings. He just wanted all of this to be over with. Charging at full speed, he zoomed straight towards Pitch Black, who looked at him with an expression that clearly said _how predictable can you be?_

Jack thought he had dodged the blade of the scythe. And he was right, yet the long shaft struck the side of his skull, sending stars to his vision. As he tried to rebalance himself, he saw Pitch Black gestured to the Fearlings. The swarm of them flew towards him like a horde of bees avenging their fallen beehive. Reaching their black, slender arms and claw-like fingers, they were mere seconds before tearing Jack apart…

An abrupt shove thrusted Jack aside and onto the ground. As he regained his senses, he looked up and witnessed North being swarmed by a horrific amount of Fearlings.

"North!"

" _And what have you got here?_ " said Pitch Black, gleefully.

The Fearlings closed their claws around North's arms, attempting to pry his hands apart. Yet they appeared to have difficulty competing against North's well-trained muscles; his skin had been left with various scratches, but his arms refused to budge. The Fearlings shrieked, frustrated. Only North remained silent, not betraying a hint of fear and concentrating all his might in shielding the white light.

Pitch Black stood by the side, amused by all the struggles in front of him. " _Wasting all of our time, aren't you? Don't worry; I'm not going anywhere, just patiently waiting for you_ hand it over." He rounded the horde to kneel at North's side. " _I know you can hear me. I'd like to point out that in situations like this, it's perfectly appropriate to drop your pride and call it quits. But it's not your fault if you don't feel like it yet, because eventually you will learn the appeal of_ _it_ _._ "

Jack saw him giving the Fearlings a meaningful look. As he stood back up and strode away from North, the Fearlings began to cover up North's body. Instead of being clawed against, North's skin slowly lost its colour and sickly grey bloomed from the tip of his fingers.

"NO!"

Jack threw himself towards North; the wind picking him up right at the second. He barely had time to steady himself, when a black, sandy scythe slashed straight towards him. He dodged the blade narrowly, but the shaft did not stop moving and whammed him away like a fly. He was forced to wheel several circles in the air. By the time he recovered from the initial shock- Jack thought as the dread welled up- North would join the Fearlings for good...

Then Jack saw it. A blue, small flame dancing in mid-air with no support but itself. It floated peacefully, unbothered by all the chaos around it. It was their final hope. If the six of them were overrun, they just need one more… one more help…

He flicked his hand. A gust of frosty wind promptly blew and diminished the blue flame. Falling down, he landed right at the Nightmare King's feet.

" _Found your rightful place, haven't you?_ " said Pitch Black, glowering at Jack, who tried to push himself back up- his face sickly pale. " _Don't look at me like that. It's a simple cause-and-effect; you've chosen the wrong path and now you're paying the price. But don't trouble yourself with my words. If it makes you feel any better, I wouldn't keep you alive for long, after witnessing your limits._ "

Jack felt his head curtly brushed aside by Pitch Black's feet. Every part of his body was exhausted and in pain. But that wasn't important. _No_. He was waiting intently for a sound cue. After a couple of seconds, when he was faintly aware that Pitch Black was strolling towards North, prying his blackening hands for a furiously beaming, white light…

A loud noise echoed through the sky, stunning all the Fearlings at their activities. Jack perked up immediately, despite the sore feeling on his back and neck. But he couldn't see any steam, or any giant locomotives. The whistle became louder still, yet he saw nothing as he looked around.

"I'll take that," said a raspy voice behind him, snatching the Seal of Imprisonment from his clutch.

Everything happened so fast that Jack had a hard time keeping up. He saw the Grim Reaper glided above him, meanwhile discovering that the Afterworld Express had stopped in mid-air, right on top of the Bennet Household, casting an eerie shadow over the cottage. She landed noiselessly at the side of Pitch Black, who- like Jack- was yet to fully comprehend what was happening.

She grabbed hold of his shoulder and forcibly turned him around to face her. Then without letting go of him, with the hand that held the Seal, she struck him straight at the forehead.

Bright, green light exploded from the Seal, blinding everyone. For a while, all Jack was aware of was the violent thumping of his heart. Then afterwards, the colours flooded back to his vision, and the world was normal again. The Fearlings flew off, desperate to get rid of the green light. North was released in an instant; his skin turning back to health.

The Guardians and the Grim Reaper froze, as they witnessed a body sprawled awkwardly on the ground, where Pitch Black had once stood. Cautiously, they approached the figure, revealing to be an unclothed and grievously scathed body of a man.

* * *

 **Next Chapter - What's So Funny? (Epilogue 1/2)**

 **Update date: 12th November 2018**


	8. What's So Funny?

**Epilogue (Part 1/2)** **\- What's So Funny?**

The first thing Kozmotis Pitchiner heard was the low rumbling of an engine, accompanied by various noises of clinking metal and muffled noises.

"I wanna poke him." said a squeaky voice.

"Don't, Maya! That's rude. Remember what the pretty fairy taught us about manners." said another.

"Do you know him?"

"No, I- Shh! He's awake!"

He stirred, bringing up a hand to cover his eyes; the brightness was too much. Gradually, the details came back, and before he opened his eyes fully, memories resurfaced to the very front of his mind: the fragment of soul he became… the escape from the Hollow… the visit to Father Time's Clock Tower and the Afterworld Express… the second battle with the Nightmare King…

He shot up from the seat, startling the children surrounding where he laid. There were three children- a girl and two boys- staring broad-eyed at him. He looked down at himself; he was draped in a long blue cloth, but most importantly, he had hands, and torso, and legs, and- as he brought his hands up to feel the rest of his head- all features that qualify him for being a human.

The girl, who looked like the oldest of the three, snapped out of her trance suddenly and ran for the next cart. As she clicked the slide door shut, Kozmotis Pitchiner's gaze turned back towards the two remaining boys in front of him.

"Where are we?" he said.

The younger boy immediately screwed up his face. Water welled up in his eyes and he began to produce moaning noises.

"Wait, no no no!" he frantically searched for a means to comfort the child. The first thing he did was trying to flip away the large cloth so that he could hop off the seat, but then he realised he was naked underneath, and thought better of it and reached out his hand to pat the child's head instead. "There, all's well. No hurry to tell me anything at the moment. It's just..."

The door slid open again, revealing the previous girl, followed by a tall, hooded figure. "General," she nodded.

"Reaper," he breathed, suddenly remembering he was on the Afterworld Express, and inwardly kicked himself for the silliness. "Is it..."

The Grim Reaper seated herself on the opposite seat. She placed her own bandaged scythe atop her lap.

"It's all fine, for now," she said. "You retrieved your body. Pitch Black's done for. And the Guardians are currently mending their own injuries. They're sorry you couldn't come to the North Pole with them; they fear your body might not react well with the climate there."

"It's nothing," said Kozmotis Pitchiner. "Where- where are we going?"

"The train? Headed for Winchester. But that's not where we're stopping. It's just me going through duties as usual. Do _you_ have anywhere you want to go, sir?"

He was speechless; he recalled the Grim Reaper being quite cooperative during their misadventures. Yet he failed to understand her being so… hospitable. As a spirit overseeing the life cycle of all human beings, she ought to be dismissive and perhaps even impatient with interruptions: For example, a passed-out, naked man in the middle of a battleground.

Seeing he had nothing to add, the Grim Reaper said. "I had been restless in waiting for you to come back. I have something here that belongs to you, and am anxious to return it. Of course, since it is never mine to begin with, so I just carry it around and never use it, even when I have to fight,"

She adjusted the scythe on her lap, holding it further such that Kozmotis Pitchiner could see it clearly. Then carefully, she began unwrapping the grey bandages that had been tangling so tightly against every inch of the weapon. A few moments passed, then abruptly, a slither of gold revealed itself amongst the dark colours.

"Yes, I thought you'd be surprised. Before I arrived Earth, I was a mere locomotive engineer who carried my passengers between stars. After you were taken over by darkness, the Fearlings sought to destroy every light and gold in the Galaxy, so I knew I had to cover this scythe with cloth to hide it; I was no match against them."

Handing the scythe over, she let Kozmotis Pitchiner close his hands around the shaft. The rest of the bandages slithered onto the floor. He marvelled closely at the smooth texture, concentrating on the sensation of cool metal against his fingers, as if trying hard to remember something.

It began with flashes of images, incredibly clear and vivid for one second, then vanished behind a thick veil. With enormous effort, he fished out the images again, but they were still terribly blurry. Most of them were of past battles, with angry sparks exploding from the clash of blades.

"I'm afraid it'll take a while for me to adjust," he said. "There're millenia of extra memories that doesn't belong to me."

"As much as I believe your past is more worth-remembering than Pitch Black's," the Grim Reaper said. "Discarding the latter right away doesn't seem like a wise choice. I regret to say in exchange of your body, the Fearlings now have scattered far across the globe. You alone may be capable of retrieving some of their previous thought patterns, so… eliminating them can be much less time-consuming."

"Agreed."

"It seems like your work is never done, sir. I'm sorry."

"No, don't be," he said, gathering the blue cloth around his torso and binding the tail. "It's high time I contribute."

The Grim Reaper watched as Kozmotis Pitchiner stood up; the blue cloth dangled awkwardly on his shoulder- like a chiton, but not so much. He adjusted the tail again, but then realised he had to bend down to retrieve the scythe.

"What's so funny?" he scowled.

"None, sir."

* * *

 **Next Chapter - New Beginning (Epilogue 2/2)**

 **Update date: 15th November 2018**


	9. New Beginning

**Epilogue (Part 2/2)** **-** **New Beginning**

"It's weird looking at you this way," said Jack. "What are you _wearing_?"

"I could say the same to you."

Oddly enough, the Grim Reaper had one set of male conductor uniform. Kozmotis Pitchiner was not about to pry. And had set off to the very first mission he had since a very, _very_ long time.

He had sealed Pitch Black's Hollow back at Burgess, such that the Fearlings could not find shelter in this neighbourhood. Yet the Hollow was yet to be fully exterminated; there are millions of other entrances spread all over the globe, which served as the gateway for Pitch Black to visit every child he could find.

Two months later, Kozmotis Pitchiner bumped into North, who was joyously riding his flying sleigh and distributing Christmas presents right above the little town in Europe. There, he was promptly invited to spend the rest of the Christmas night back at Santoff Claussen, the headquarters for the Guardians of Childhood.

To his surprise, all of them- North, Tooth, Bunny, Sandy, and Jack were all present. He had yet to think of what to do when facing them all at once. As a white light, he had no problem associating himself with them. In fact, he was quite intent on expressing himself. Yet with this body, he felt… heavy. Like he was carrying a lot more sins on his back.

Thankfully, they did not ask many questions. The Christmas spirit was keeping everyone happy and accepting. North showed him a new invention of his own, explaining proudly the mechanics of which the miniature hot-air balloon could float on its own, no fire required. Tooth was unfortunately still busy even at holidays, but she still found a split spare moment to give him a small box of Christmas present, which took him by surprise, as he had expected nothing from her, or anyone for that matter. Bunny, who Kozmotis Pitchiner suspected would be grudging due to his Pitch-Black-like appearance, offered him a cup of eggnog and wished him a happy Christmas. Sandy seemed to have a lot to say, for a silent one. Golden images kept flashing above his head, getting larger when he noticed Kozmotis Pitchiner was unsuccessful in deciphering his meaning. So much so that he had to dodge his head to avoid being sent to sleep.

Jack, however, was the most unpredictable one, because the first thing he commented was about the conductor's uniform.

"No, I mean… a _tie_. There's a _tie_!"

"I'm aware," said Kozmotis Pitchiner, patiently.

"Why can't you… like, _not_ wear the tie? I mean, you're not _really_ a train conductor-"

"A full uniform shows respect to the group. Even if it's just borrowed, I suppose it'll be impolite to put it on sloppily."

"Then why not the hat?"

"It's a universal regulation that when we're indoors-"

"Are you interrogating him, mate?" said Bunny.

The rest of the event was spent in harmony, until Sandy fell asleep and spilled the chocolate onto the floor that North called it a night. Before leaving, the Guardians assured Kozmotis Pitchiner that they would help out in catching the Fearlings in any way they could, yet he responded by saying that he would be the one to put the job in the first priority, and that the Guardians could carry on their duties without more burdens on their shoulders. As he went out into the icy world and fished out a silver whistle in his breast pocket ( _a more proper way than blowing out Ghost Fire_ , said the Grim Reaper), he had a good feeling things would go much better than before. As it's been said before, a general's work is never done. But he would face it nonetheless.

* * *

 **THE END**

 **Author's Note:**

Thank you very much for sticking to the end. This story is actually finished long before I uploaded it here, so- regretfully- requests for original/other official character insertion are out of the question. But due to self-doubt and perfectionism, I kept delaying the publish date and editing minor things. I'm not a great storyteller, but I enjoy building stories by leaving hints and connecting pieces in the end. That's why there're still unanswered questions in this story: Why was there a missing cog in Father Time's Clock Tower? How did the Grim Reaper get the scythe? I can leave these questions to your open imagination, or that I can write a sequel that answers them and leads to more of its own questions. (And as you have noticed: the epilogue has switched the perspective from Jack to Pitch, so if a sequel is to be written, it'll be in Pitch's POV) I'd very much love to hear your opinions. And on top of that, as an amateur writer, I hope to hear your criticisms of this story, whether it's about the content, the style, or the characters. Please don't hesitate to voice out- it's expected to receive both pleasing and "flaming" responses, the moment I upload something on the internet.


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